


There's Room in My Darkness for You

by Sara (Saravan)



Category: Being Human (UK)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Werewolf, F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-02-22
Updated: 2014-05-26
Packaged: 2018-01-13 10:41:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,251
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1223332
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Saravan/pseuds/Sara
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is an AU where Dominic is an alpha werewolf of one of the biggest packs in the area and Natasha is a detective in a branch of the police force that deals exclusively with supernatural crimes. The existence of werewolves is known, and humans haven't been the kindest or the best towards them. Whether or not other beings such as vampires are known of yet, I'm not sure. There's been a string of crimes where humans have been killed on the full moon and after the case has been going on a little while, Dominic teams up with Natasha as a consultant. I'm terrible with summaries but yep. </p><p>Also, the werewolves in this fic are much different than the ones in Being Human canon -- I like the idea of werewolves turning into large wolves more than I do the 'wolf man' concept.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Interrogation

**Author's Note:**

> Ellis is the best and the worst for loving this AU as much as I do, as well as helping it grow and expand even further than just an idea. I don't own Natasha or Dominic, though I do like to borrow them from time to time. I hope you all enjoy!

“You smell nice, Detective. Is that perfume or shampoo?” The man sitting opposite her asked, his lips curving up into a slow smirk. She flexed her jaw and crossed her legs under the interrogation table. He was being creepy and he knew it. Though, Natasha imagined, he would be far creepier if he weren’t a werewolf. She knew he was trying to make her uneasy, as he had noticed the general mood of the station upon his arrival. Werewolves, while out in the open as members of the public, were still widely looked down upon. Humans poked and prodded things they didn’t understand. That was one thing about her kind that she hated. One thing of many.

She raised her eyebrows, looking generally un-amused and likewise unperturbed. 

“Do you need anything to drink before we begin?” She asked, ignoring his question.

He nodded his head once, the incline of his head simple and brisk. He seemed to ooze authority. He appeared calm and she could read nothing on his expression that he wasn’t willing to betray.

“A cup of coffee would be quite nice, thank you,” he said, smiling at her again, pleasant, charming.

She wondered how many times he had offered that smile to get what he wanted. 

Natasha had never done well with authority figures and decided that the less she had to contend with this one, the better.

She got up and walked out of the room, immediately moving the short distance across to the old coffee machine. Someone had taken the last of it, so with a grumble and a long stream of curse words, Natasha set it to work. She leaned against the table while she waited for it to brew, her back to the machine, facing the glass window of the interrogation room. She opened up the file she had on the suspect so far, glancing up every now and again to watch the man sitting in the interrogation room. He seemed relaxed, if not a bit impatient, his cool blue eyes scanning the stark room every now and again. His hands were folded comfortably on the table. 

He was wearing cufflinks that resembled a full moon. Someone had a sense of humor.

_Suspect’s name: Dominic C. Rook. Suspect’s full middle name could not be found at this time. Possible it’s been wiped off records due to suspect’s wishes. Also possible this was his given name. Could be Charles, but why hide it?_

_Suspect’s age: Thirty-four._

_Sex and Species: Male, Lycanthrope._

_Occupation: Alpha Male. Pack location and size, unknown. Has different shares in an assortment of companies. Is active in campaigns to secure equal rights for werewolves and other minorities. Also is the current CEO of a company founded by his great-great-great grandfather._

_Family: Parents are Charles and Ruth Rook. Ruth’s maiden name, Lawrence. One child, being the suspect. Both werewolves. Charles is deceased. Ruth lives alone, in a house presumably owned by the suspect. Suspect is unmarried, unmated. Has been linked to a few women, thought to be werewolves. See attached photographs._

 

It wasn’t much, but it was a start. She thumbed briefly through the papers and photographs that were attached to the top file, most of them being newspaper clippings and photographs of Dominic Rook out at events.

He was always dressed pristinely. There wasn’t a hair out of place or a crooked tie to be seen in any of the photographs, and even now as the man got up and put his suit jacket over the back of the chair and unfastened his cufflinks to roll up his sleeves, he still looked put together. 

She closed the file and put it aside, hearing the coffee machine growl as it finished brewing the pot of coffee. She poured two cups, one for her and one for the suspect. She stuck some sugar and creamer packets into her suit jacket, and after carefully catching the file between her arm and her side, she picked up the two cups of coffee. 

“Hey, Collins, can you get the door for me?” Natasha called over her shoulder at a colleague who had just approached the coffee pot. 

“Huh?” he turned and then grinned. “Oh, yeah, sure, Miles,” he said, walking over to the door. “So, you’re lookin’ good today.”

Natasha rolled her eyes. “Robbie, just open the damn door, would you?”

Robbie frowned, but did as he was told. “I was just paying you a compliment,” he said, moodily.

She snorted. “Mmhmm, that’s exactly what you were doing,” she said, breezing past him to go back into the interrogation room.

Robbie snorted, but took the time nonetheless to admire her as she passed through the door, closing it behind her once she was through. 

Dominic looked up at the detective as she re-entered the room, having just finished rolling up the sleeve of his left arm. “I was starting to wonder if you’d had to go buy coffee beans, Detective,” he said, after taking the cup from her with a word of thanks.

Natasha grunted, choosing not to answer beyond that and settled down in her seat with her own cup, laying the file down by her left arm. They weren’t friends, and she refused to joke around with a suspect. She pulled the packets of sugar and creamer out of her pocket and laid them down on the table. She reached for a packet of sugar for herself and then hesitated. “Did you want milk?” She hoped the answer would be no. She wasn’t even sure if the station had milk; Robbie always seemed to enjoy his coffee more on the milky side, so she never could be sure.

Dominic paused to consider, and the prospect that he could be even more of a pain to the young detective was alluring. Being interrogated was certainly a pain, even more so when it was apparent that he was most likely here because he was the most well-known werewolf in the area. 

“No,” he said, finally, more to see her reaction than anything else. He decided that he’d have plenty more opportunities to fluster the investigator, if he chose to. 

Natasha’s back relaxed, ever so slightly, into the back of her chair and she nodded, tearing open the sugar packet. “Just let me know if you change your mind,” she said simply, keeping her gaze off him as she doctored her coffee to her tastes.

“Sure,” he replied, taking a moment to take her in.

She looked tired, which was something he had noticed from the very beginning. The flame that never seemed to die in her eyes did a good job of distracting from the dark circles that resided beneath them, but not much escaped him. She was attractive, young. If he had to guess, he’d say that she hadn’t been on the force long, but it seemed as if the job was already starting to do her in. 

He didn’t have long to analyze her, as she soon clanked her spoon gently on the side of her mug and set it onto the tabletop with a dull thump.

“Shall we begin?” she asked, reaching for her audio recorder.

He hesitated, dropping a packet of creamer into his own cup and stirring it before he sighed. “I don’t have much of a choice, do I?” he said, raising his eyebrows.

“Not really, no,” she said simply, hitting the record button and beginning.

“This is Natasha K. Miles, interrogating Dominic C. Rook in regards to the murder of Isaac R. Tyler, male, human, age twenty-six.” Once she had also recited the date and time of questioning, she put her recorder back down on the table.

“Where were you on the night of the 10th of August? According to our records it was a full moon.”

“Yes, Detective. I can vouch for it being a full moon as I generally don’t turn into a huge wolf any other night of the month,” he drawled, raising his cup to his lips. “And I was with my pack, as per usual. I don’t often wander off during the full moon. If we run, I’m the one in the lead. Every so often I have one of my betas lead, if I’m not in the mood or not feeling well, but last night I was fine.”

“Can anyone confirm that you were there?” she asked, ignoring his sarcasm. The sooner she could be done with questioning him, the better.

“Naturally, every single member of my pack could,” he said, shrugging his shoulders. “If I allowed them to speak to you,” he added, taking great pleasure in watching her expression darken and her jaw clench.

“Mr Rook, it would be beneficial if you were cooperative in this investigation,” she said, sliding her fingers in between one another and resting both hands on the table.

“I never said I wouldn’t be cooperative, Detective, but my pack will be left out of this,” he said smoothly, as if that was the end of the discussion.

Natasha wasn’t going to have that. Not if she could help it.

“It would help prove your innocence if you just let me confirm with even one of your pack members. Unless you’d rather we waste time and gather evidence against you,” she said, her smile thin. “Either you’re very protective of your pack, of you have something to hide. Or both.”

His eyebrows arched, not in annoyance, but amusement. He grinned, much to her frustration, and took a sip of his coffee. “You make good coffee, Natasha, isn’t that your name?” he hummed, putting the cup down.

She blinked, thrown off momentarily by his sudden change in subject, as well as pace. “Calling me Detective or Detective Miles is appropriate, please.”

“Do you know what kind of coffee your station buys? I was expecting something that resembled acid. I’m a bit particular about my coffee, but this is nice. Rich.”

She stared at him as though she very much would have liked him to be drinking acid, which only fueled his amusement.

“No,” she replied, clearing her throat. “Now—I’d like if we could get back on the subject, Mr Ro—“ He cut her off. Of course he did.

“Please, call me Dominic, Natasha. What does the K in your name stand for? I suppose you’ve had quite the time figuring out what the C stands for in mine,” he said, smiling widely, smugly.

Natasha flexed her fingers, clenched her jaw. She picked up her coffee and took another drink, trying to keep her temper at bay. Dominic Cock Rook sounded fitting.

“Mr Rook, just answer the question.” She pushed.

The werewolf sniffed, leaned back in his chair and shrugged, the smile gone from his lips but persisting in his eyes. “Bradley Fleming could, I’d imagine. He’s one of my betas,” he informed her.

Natasha hesitated – she knew Bradley, personally as well as intimately. She’d gone to school with the werewolf, and had been quite fond of him for a time. She wondered briefly if Bradley had always been a member of Rook’s pack, and if so, why it hadn’t been brought up.

Though, if she were honest with herself, her connection with Bradley had been physical first. Only after months of sleeping with one another had they developed a friendship of sorts, a strong affection for the other. Neither one of them spent much time talking about their background or where they came from. Both of them were more keen on the present, the here and now. 

They had split up amicably, and splitting up was a loose term. They had never been exclusive, and neither one of them had felt as though they were really attached to the other romantically. They had lost touch when she started moving up the ranks in the force, and, she’d guess now – when Bradley moved up in the werewolf ranks as well. 

She nodded, writing down Bradley’s name. “Would you allow me to speak to him?” she asked mildly, after a beat.

She had every reason to believe that Bradley would speak to her regardless of what the alpha male told her now, but she wasn’t about to say so.

“I suppose,” he said after a long pause, taking a sip of his coffee. “If you leave the others alone and you treat him with the respect he deserves,” he replied.

Natasha scowled, offended, but left her offense alone. She didn’t feel the need to continue fighting with the alpha male if she could help it. Of course she would treat him with respect.

She could tell his opinion on humans wasn’t high, and he disliked police officers more than that.

Well, that was fine. She didn’t have a high opinion of him either.

She sighed, glancing up at him. “I appreciate that,” she told him. 

He watched her, surprised, as she wrote down a set of numbers beside Bradley’s name.

“I didn’t tell you his mobile number,” he said, looking up at her curiously.

“I…. already know it,” she told him.

His brow pulled in for a moment and he slowly nodded. “Ah.”

Bradley had always been fond of humans, which was something that Dominic himself had never understood. Sometimes he could look at the human women that Bradley dated and see why his beta was interested.

He couldn’t find one thing in this one that he liked, though her passion was admirable. He did so enjoy making her angry, however, as it seemed far too simple a task.

Natasha suppressed the urge to ask him what the fuck ‘ah’ meant, and continued.

“When werewolves transform, are all of them usually docile or do they ever lean towards violence?” She asked him, keeping her tone level, more curious than accusatory. 

Dominic had no trouble reading the subtext beneath the question, and whether it was subtext he assumed to be there or not, it was enough to offend him deeply, thus furthering his dislike for the young woman seated in front of him.

“Are you asking me if I’m a violent wolf, Detective?” he asked coolly. 

“It was just a general question, Mr Rook.”

A slow smirk spread across his lips as he leaned across the investigation table, taking pleasure in the sharp intake of breath from the interviewing officer.

"I don’t know, Detective. Do you think a man like me is capable of ripping out the throat of an innocent human? I’m curious for your insight."

His sharp blue eyes stared into hers, waiting for an answer, relishing in her discomfort.

She bit back an angry reply. She even refrained from telling him exactly what was on her mind.

A man like him might not. But what he did on the full moon as a wolf might be something else entirely.

"Just answer the question," Natasha said simply.

He stared at her for a moment longer before he looked away, leaning back against his chair. 

“No, I’m not a violent wolf and I’ve never had any problems with my pack being violent either. I’ve had the odd fight over a female before during the heat, but it’s all handled within the pack. I encourage members of my pack to speak to humans respectfully, and I have a few members that like to engage in relationship with humans, which is certainly their right. I don’t condone hate crimes, Detective. I’m not that sort of man, nor am I that sort of wolf.”

Natasha studied him in silence for a moment after he was finished, unsure of what to say.

“Thank you,” she said, finally. She wasn’t sure what it was about his answer that had struck her as it had, but she found herself believing him. At least about that. He had given her enough that she could ask Bradley and he could confirm or deny his alpha’s stance on the subject of humans, as well as the general atmosphere of Rook’s pack. Not knowing much about packs really made investigations of this caliber difficult, especially when werewolves weren’t keen on putting their trust in humans. 

“Is that all?” he turned back to look at her, his gaze intense. He was annoyed, she realized, because he’d had to share something about his pack that he may otherwise deem as a private matter.

“No,” she said, after a beat. “I have just a few more questions. I just need a bit more of your time and then you’ll be free to go.”

“Fine. Carry on then,” he muttered.

Dominic was no longer in the mood for games. He was tired and he was irritated.

He just wasn’t sure if he was more irritated with the woman in front of him, or the werewolf that had brutally killed a human the night previously.

He knew it wasn’t one of his, but he also knew if he wasn’t careful his pack would feel the repercussions of the crime regardless.

After finishing his coffee and clearing his throat, Dominic answered her next question.


	2. Pillow Talk

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! Sorry it's taken me so long to update. As usual, I own nothing with the characters Dominic and Natasha, though the other characters I will take credit for. This isn't the //greatest// but it's an update, so there you have it. Odds and ends of the werewolf stuff does come from my own head, but I also would not be surprised if it's already been done before. I hope you guys enjoy. :)
> 
> There is brief sexual content, nothing explicit, just implied.

“Fuck,” Natasha breathed, laughing a little as her back hit the mattress. “That was……”

“Spectacular? Amazing? The best you’ve ever had?” Bradley hummed, shifting to trace her collarbone with his tongue. 

Natasha grinned and shivered, shaking her head. “None of the above,” she informed him, pleased to hear him laugh against her shoulder.

Bradley’s hand had been stroking her stomach, his fingers slowly grazing lower when she answered him. He snorted and bit her shoulder before he sat up. “Oh? Then what would you call it, Detective Miles?” he hummed, leaning in and nuzzling and licking her cheek until she started giggling, her fingers dragging through his curls.

“Surprising,” she informed him, wrinkling up her nose when he licked the tip of her nose and then nuzzled her jaw, whining happily.

“I’d call it that too,” he whispered, biting her earlobe. “I’ve missed you, you know,” he said, after a moment, pulling back to look down at her.

Natasha smiled widely, touching his face. “I’ve missed you too,” she told him. 

He kissed her, shifting to move his hand back down to where it was residing before. 

Natasha caught his hand gently. “Now can we talk about Rook?” she asked him.

Bradley made a face and then laughed, rolling off her onto his back. “Talk about a boner kill,” he snorted.

Natasha laughed, rolling onto her side and propping her head up with her hand. “Bradley, come on. You know that’s the whole reason I met up with you.”

“I know. And then I seduced you. What a tough life you lead,” he sighed dramatically, looking over at her and grinning before he sat up and shrugged. “What do you want to know?” he asked. 

Natasha followed his lead, reaching across for her shirt. After pulling it on, she got up and found her underwear, as well as her notebook and pen. 

Bradley wordlessly held out his hand and Tasha tossed him his boxers.

“What kind of leader is he? Is he fair? What’s his personality like?” She asked, moving to sit back onto the bed. She drew her hair up into a ponytail and Bradley had the chance to admire the bite on her neck.

“He’s a good leader,” he shrugged. “He does what he can for his pack and for other wolves that need help. I’ve never felt like it was a chore for him to take care of us, and he genuinely seems like he likes to do it. He doesn’t care much for humans but he doesn’t like violence against them any more than you like violence against werewolves. He’d rather we all just got along with one another, or better yet, maybe even just left alone. It’d be nice to just be able to live our lives without being under a microscope,” he said quietly, playing with her free hand as she wrote down notes.

Natasha squeezed his hand gently, supportively, and Bradley smiled to himself.

“He’s fair, too… and he’s not violent. He has a temper, but it’s more like… slamming doors, kicking things…” 

Natasha raised her eyebrows. “Sounds like a toddler.”

“Sometimes,” Bradley grinned. “Adds to the charm.”

She snorted and shook her head, but there was a smile on her lips. It was entertaining to think of the calm and collected man she’d met kicking things and stomping out of a room.

“So he’s never been violent?”

“No, never,” Bradley shook his head. “Not for as long as I’ve known him, and that’s been about all my life,” he told her. “About as long as I’ve known you, actually,” he added, with a crooked smile.

Natasha mirrored his smile and nodded slowly. “So what else should I know about him?”

Bradley let her hand go and scratched his chin thoughtfully. “Um, well… he’s really private. Like, really, really private. It’s going to be really hard for you to get anything out of him, at least not anything he doesn’t want you to know. He probably won’t trust you either, but I wouldn’t be offended. He’s paranoid sometimes, especially with humans.”

“He has a right to be,” Natasha shrugged, and Bradley nodded. “Yeah. I mean, all of the wolves do, to be fair,” he sighed. 

She sighed, running her hand through her hair. “Do you think he’ll work with me? Be cooperative?” she asked. “I’ve ruled him out as a suspect but he’s still a good asset to have…”

“I dunno,” Bradley said, kissing her shoulder and then getting up to pick up his shirt. “It could be worth a shot. I mean, this case makes werewolves look shitty enough, the longer it goes on the worse it’ll get. He’ll want it resolved as badly as you do.”

“And if I need you, will you help?” She asked, getting to her feet and picking up her jeans.

Bradley looked over at her and smiled lazily. “For you, I’ll always help,” he told her, walking over to her and kissing her cheek. “I meant it when I said I missed you.”

“I meant it too,” she said, pulling on her jeans. “We’ll have to try to make it a point to get together more often. Not like this, but…” she laughed.

Bradley grinned. “Maybe we can sometimes…” he said, his hands resting on her hips.

Natasha rolled her eyes and touched his chest. “Maybe, but I wouldn’t count on it,” she smiled, leaning forward to kiss him. “It’s a bad idea and it worked when we were teenagers. It also worked when I wasn’t always neck deep in police work,” she said. “And,” she added as an afterthought, “before you were a beta of a werewolf pack. I’m sure that keeps you busy enough.”

Bradley huffed and leaned in to kiss her one more time. “Alright,” he relented, letting her go so she could step back. “Fine.”

“Don’t huff at me like that, Fleming,” Natasha laughed a little. “I know you’re seeing at least a couple women casually.”

“Maybe out of all of the women I’ve seen casually, you’re my favorite,” he replied, raising his eyebrows. “Did you think of that?” he asked, as she put away her notebook and pen.

Natasha grinned and laughed. “Is it because I’m the only one that’ll watch hours of Law and Order reruns with you at two o’clock in the morning?”

He laughed, his lips curving up into a wide smile as he nodded. “Hit it right on the head,” he teased, “guess they did a good job hiring you, after all.” He said, watching her as she finished getting her things together and headed for the door of his small flat. 

“Did you ever doubt me?” she asked, opening up the door and giving him a look.

He shook his head and smiled. “Not for a second. Let me know if you need any help.”

“I will,” she promised with a smile, nodding once before she walked out of his apartment. 

He followed her to the door and locked it behind her, before he turned and leaned with his back against the door. He sighed, rubbing his face before he walked over to the bed and flopped down face first into the mattress.

Natasha glanced over her shoulder once, looking at the door before she walked down the hallway, digging her phone out from her purse. She had another interview to schedule.

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“You seem distracted,” the she-wolf sighed, resting her chin on his chest and looking up at Dominic. 

He opened up his eyes, confusion registering on his features. “Hmm? Oh,” he sighed, his face relaxing as he rubbed his face. “No, no, I’m fine,” he said, reaching out to tuck some of her hair back behind her ear. 

Callie smiled widely and licked his chest, pleased to hear a small rumble from Dominic’s throat. “You sure? I mean, we could continue this another night,” she hummed, leaning up to bite at her packmaster’s mouth. Dominic responded, cupping the back of her head and kissing her hard enough she whined and pressed against him in desire. 

He considered shifting them then, rolling them and pinning her to the mattress. It was what he had always done, as alpha males never let their partners be on top in an intimate situation. It symbolized his position in the pack. It was what he had been taught.

Typically only the mates of an alpha were allowed the privilege, though he had heard of some alphas enjoying it so much they didn’t care how they got sex, as long as they did, and often. Dominic didn’t have sex often enough to lend himself to being adventurous, and he was very careful with who he gave power in his pack. He had made the mistake before in trusting another wolf he shouldn’t have, and he had a scar on his stomach to prove it.

He wasn’t planning on sleeping with her tonight, even if it was originally his intention to do so. He found himself too preoccupied, his mind constantly running through the interrogation with the fiery and determined human, and the case that she was working on. The rest of the interview had gone smoothly, as he had been put out of the mood to torment her, and she hadn’t been in the mood to deviate from the task at hand.

As the interrogation continued, he’d found her to be strikingly professional, though much more open to her own emotions than he was to his and how they affected him. He hadn’t expected that from a police officer, let alone a detective. He had a feeling that it would get someone with that occupation in trouble. Caring too much about the cases would make it personal. He knew things never ended well when feelings got involved.

Callie’s hand slid down to graze him and he grunted and pulled back, gently biting her mouth. “I’m sorry,” he sighed, “not tonight,” he said quietly, feeling guilty when he saw the disappointment in her eyes. If he had been able to push the thoughts of Detective Miles out of his mind, he would have happily done so. He’d known Callie since they both were children, and he’s always been fond of her.

Callie whined and kissed him before she ran her nose down his jaw. “Are you alright? Really, Dominic.” She asked softly. “I know you went to the police station today.”

Bradley had probably told her. He’d always had a big mouth. Dominic sighed and stroked her hair as she kissed gently at his neck. “I’m fine,” he said again, in a tone that seemed to suggest she drop it. 

Callie complied, curling against him and closing her eyes, but she didn’t drop it for long. “I just worry about you, that’s all,” she said after a moment, her voice soft enough she sounded like a teenager spreading gossip to her friends on a playground.

Dominic hesitated, not sure how to take that. Any sort of concern for his well-being was generally taken with at least some embarrassment, as it was something he wasn’t used to. His family hadn’t ever been the nurturing type, and while he had made sure his mother was well taken care of in the form of a house and other necessities, they didn’t ever really speak to one another. He was a third generation alpha male, with his father and grandfather being alphas before him. His grandfather hadn’t been unkind to Dominic’s father, but he hadn’t exactly been kind either. He acknowledged Charles as his successor. Dominic’s father had acknowledged Dominic as a symbol of his mortality, and thus had seen him as his ultimate undoing. 

It had been up to Dominic’s mother to teach him the ways of the werewolves, and it had been Dominic’s job to listen as well as watch how his father treated the pack. It had also been Dominic’s job to realize that his father’s job was hard and stressful. He also had to sit still while his mother cleaned the blood from his scrapes, put ointment on his welts.

When Charles had died, his body should have been buried in the woods, as it was tradition for werewolves to be buried free of caskets or vaults and that they would only truly be at peace if they became one with nature. It was something Dominic himself didn’t believe in. 

Dominic made sure his father’s body was cremated and put into a small wooden box and buried. As alpha it was his right to do as he pleased. Even if he had believed, he didn’t feel as though his father deserved to be in peace. It was the only completely spiteful thing Dominic had ever done, and he couldn’t find it in himself to feel guilty. His mother was so upset with him, she didn’t speak to him for months.

“You shouldn’t worry about me,” he replied, his fingers still idly stroking her hair. Callie sighed. “Well, someone has to, don’t they?” she said, nuzzling his neck.

Dominic chuckled. “That’s what my betas are for,” he said softly.

Callie snorted and was quiet for long enough that Dominic was sure she’d fallen asleep. He himself was on the cusp of slumber when he felt her shift to look at him. He opened up his eyes and suppressed a sigh, preparing himself for what he assumed was going to be another question about his well-being. 

Her question caught him off guard. “Do you think they’ll figure out who killed that man?” she asked. He could hear her the uncertainty in her voice, the lack of confidence in the human task force assigned to the case.

Dominic thought once again about the spitfire of a detective, the bright and determined young woman. He couldn’t say that he liked her. He certainly didn’t trust her with his own life or that of the pack’s, but he did trust that she knew how to do her job.

“Yes,” he said slowly, touching her face. “I do.”

Callie smiled and leaned in to kiss him, but the moment was interrupted by the buzzing of his cell phone. He groaned and Callie sighed and moved off him so he could retrieve his phone from the bedside table.

“Hello?” He answered, his tone cool and reserved. He didn’t recognize the phone number on the screen. It was better to be safe than sorry. 

“Mr Rook?”

“Dominic,” he said automatically, and the woman on the other side sighed in frustration.

He smiled.

Speak of the devil and she doth … call your mobile.


End file.
